𝕾𝖔𝖒𝖊𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝕸𝖎𝖓𝖊//𝖂𝖊𝖓 𝕵𝖚𝖓𝖍𝖚𝖎

Chap. 8

It has been two weeks. Two weeks since you saw a sliver of the world you live in; a darker counterpart to the iridescent lights and glittering golds. Two weeks since you felt his soft lips on yours...

You'd never been in a courtroom before but if you did, this would be an eerie similarity to a convict under the judge's scrutiny.

"An errand boy!" Your mother paced back and forth before twirling her heels in your father's library with the man himself slumped in his seat as though the weight of your sneaking out and weekly rendezvous has all come burying him six feet under alive, "I did not raise you to ─to run around with a common man like some wild animal!"

"Mother, perhaps ___ has her own reasoning," your sister stepped forward, the curls of her hair bouncing with each footfall but she'd not come close when your mother, red as cherry and if you concentrated, you could see smoke seeping out of her ears, had went off like a kettle.

"Joshua told me he'd seen you on the streets with a man without a company," deaf to any sound besides her clicking shoes as she tread in a straight line and halted in front of you like a malicious governess to a mere child, her eyes moisturized, "but after Hoshi... I swore I'd never hold you two back from going out even though it was done behind my back."

Hoshi had been a tender subject for the family's discussion. Even after two years, the wound of losing him had felt fresh and bleeding.

"But to have Vernon, a respectable man who your father is thinking of doing business with," a thousand glass shards embedded itself in your skin, cutting through the delicate layer like a butcher's knife cutting through meat, "see you like that..."

And to have known your mother, perhaps your father too, had been aware of your routines and had let it slide whilst they had to uphold the family name, had been a blow to your conscience. You thought by doing it without their knowledge could not hurt them; could not add yet another burden to their shoulders.

An ample apology rolled out your tongue like molten lead as your mother spoke above you and froze the words like metal on ice, "...we are lucky he would still have you."

"No," the click of your heels as you fell back was precise; sharp as the declination that fell off your tongue before you could even comprehend what just happened, "you cannot do this to me; to punish me so!"

"It has been done," your father said thickly as though he'd let your mother run this conversation and made it seem like it was predominantly her calls only to say that and end all discussion.

"You gave us no choice," your mother added when your father leaned back into his seat as a signal of his first and final piece of say, "word will get out and we can't stop it so before it does, you're going to marry Vernon."

"Do it for the family," do it for Hoshi, she meant, "if not for you."

...two weeks since your mother, without her usual twin knocks, barged into your room, tore the blankets off your gown-donned body and heatedly pulled the receipts to your crimes.

You are dining with your future husband at his mansion tonight. Rumor has it he drove the former masters out of their own homes with his abundant of money to pay off their debts. Now he owns the place and its hundreds acres of lands.

Though smaller in size, the interior golden carvings etched on the edge of the ceilings made up for it. Whilst you are not one to jump in the gossip wagon and drink in every word like it's sweet tea, you've seen a glimpse of what the man is capable of at the black market and what he is doing with the fortunate information he got off it pertaining you.

"I'm not self-made," the clinking of silverware on fine porcelain laughs in your face for your predicaments as Vernon humbly denies your mother's praise, "the people around me have helped me get to where I am now."